And now you have my may-not-amuse-anyone-but-myself-and-Nathan Asheville pics of the day.

Much more comforting when the “D” hasn’t fallen off the sigh, eh Miranda?

Coolest truffle-ish thing EVER: Firecracker from Chocolate Gems. Chocolate, cayenne, and pop rocks. It was fun!

I felt like Alton Brown hanging out in the Spice and Tea Exchange. Look at all the different salts!

Oh, mojito from Chorizo! The good thing is that dessert was not had tonight. One meal at a time, Krissie.

And since you all like crazy pictures of my husband, here’s Nathan through a kaleidoscope.

And tomorrow we HIKE! and head home (wah-wah). But first we HIKE!

Sometimes, I don’t know what to do.

Over the course of the last year or so, I’ve gotten pretty good at reading my appetite. I know when I’m hungry. I know when I’m full. I am able to make the best choice in whatever situation I’m in and not feel bad about it. I’m good at treating myself on special occasions (vacations, weddings, etc.) and not feeling guilty or letting it throw off my routine when I get home.

Yesterday at brunch, I skimmed the menu and got very excited. (And, on a side note, I am amused after the fact. Wasn’t my issue with our meatless time how sick I was of eggs and beans? And I keep choosing eggs! What? Who knows.)

Anyway, I decide on an omelet. Roasted red peppers, asparagus, tomatoes, brie and sweet potato fries on the side. (Another side note: Why haven’t I ever thought of putting brie in eggs? Well played, Tupelo Honey. Well played.) I was excited.

Before my breakfast, this arrives:

I do what any good girl would do. I split it in half horizontally. Slather the top with local honey and give the bottom half to my husband. I knew I didn’t want it all, but I wanted some of it. I was very content.

And then this beauty arrives.

Again. Brie was a brilliant addition to my make-my-own omelet.

My breakfast was fantastic. Asparagus was perfectly steamed. Tomatoes were impressive for this time of the year. Sweet potato fries were perfectly salted and crispy and just the right temperature. The ketchup was Heinz. All was right with the world.

Until I realized I was full. And my plate still looked like this.

So now what? Here’s what I knew.

• We were eating brunch. That meant that we probably wouldn’t eat again until dinner. Which meant I needed to be full enough to last me until then.
• The food was gooooooood.
• I had paid for the whole thing. The old “I’m letting food go to waste” argument came to mind.
• I was satisfied. Not uncomfortably full, but I had reached the point where I have trained myself to stop eating.
• I knew that any snack I would get throughout the day would be something like truffles or an iced coffee or something else that wasn’t as nutritionally sound as my eggs and veggies sitting in front of me.

So what did I do? I convinced myself to keep eating.

I think I had two more decent bites of the omelet – only eating my favorite parts, egg, cheese, tomato – and three or four more sweet potato fries.

And then I quit. I was full.

But the old Krissie? She would have ate the whole darn thing.

That’s not who I am today. I am the new Krissie. The half-marathon running Krissie.

But I did get hungry before dinner. And it wasn’t the end of the world. I still had truffles later on in the day. I ate an apetizer, an entree, and a dessert at dinner. I was adequately hungry that I didn’t feel stuffed at dinner either. And I don’t feel guilty. I still know how to vacation! I know the difference between daily life and occasional treats.

But I don’t throw all my smarts out the window just because we’re in Asheville. And I’m proud of that.